Nine Stories
by Shining Kestral
Summary: -13th Cycle- Collections of nine short scenes centering around one Cosmos Warrior and their relationships to the other nine. Each chapter focuses on a different character.
1. Nine Lives

**IX.**

Bartz once complained to Squall that Zidane was just too fast. (And it just wasn't fair and he saw that treasure first so it should be his, you agree, right Squall?) Squall didn't really pay much attention to that statement at first, but now he knew the truth: Bartz was not exaggerating in any way. When it came to agility and mobility, the thief was the absolute king. Zidane raced across fields, climbed up trees almost as quickly as he leapt from them, and practically bounded up small cliffs.

It was taking everything Squall had just to keep up with him. He hauled himself up over the edge of a cliff to find Zidane trying to catch his breath and looking ready to fall over at any second. After what seemed like an eternity, Zidane's legs gave, and he fell to his knees. Squall looked back the way they came. Had they really traveled that far?

"Let's stop here for tonight," he suggested.

"No, I..." Zidane pushed himself off the ground, getting back on his feet. "I can keep going." No sooner than he said that, he felt a tug as Squall grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled on it. Hard.

"No, you can't." While he admired his resolve, Squall was not about to have Zidane drop dead of exhaustion on him. That, and he didn't think he could go on any more himself. "We're staying here tonight." The authority in his voice and the _look _he gave Zidane clearly said that the subject was not up for discussion. Defeated, Zidane let his gaze fall to the ground and relented. "Now, can you walk, or do I have to carry you?"

Zidane perked right up and insisted that he was perfectly capable of walking by himself.

Camp was made in a small cave in the side of a mountain a short distance away from the cliff. Squall sat at the mouth of the cave while Zidane was asleep by a small fire, his tail curled around himself miserably.

_He must still be beating himself up about Bartz, _he thought. Zidane's tail, Squall noticed, always betrayed the thief's true feelings.

Tired as he was, Squall turned his attention to the outside, and stayed up until dawn watching for danger.

**V.**

First it was Zidane, now it was Bartz. The two of them, Squall figured, must be pretty close to worry about each other so much. And idly, he had to wonder, would they do the same for him? However, there wasn't much time to think, as Squall raised his gunblade to block a strike from another gunblade identical to his own.

With a rush of strength, Squall managed to shove Bartz away. Bartz let out a surprised grunt as he hit the ground, the gunblade he was holding disappearing in a flash of light. Once the world stopped spinning, the first thing Bartz saw was Squall's boots.

"Again," Squall ordered. "You said you wanted to get stronger, didn't you?" Spurred on by his words, Bartz was up in no time and launching another attack, this time with the Holy spell he had learned from Terra. At such close range, it was impossible for Squall to dodge it and he let out a grunt as the magic collided into him.

"Ha! I did it!" Bartz crowed. It was the first hit he had landed on Squall ever since they started training. Trying to land a hit on someone who's focused on being on the defensive was much harder than he thought. However, his celebrations were cut short when a flurry of fire, ice, and thunder magic caught him off guard. "Hey, no fair!"

"There's no 'fair' in battle," Squall snorted. "You caught me off guard, but you can't rely on your enemy making mistakes. And you can't celebrate until you're sure you've won. Hitting me once isn't nearly enough."

Bartz immediately felt humbled. Squall was right, of course. And he had to take this training seriously. It was because he didn't take things seriously enough that Zidane was now in the hands of the enemy. He thought he'd have to beg Squall to help him get stronger, but much to his surprise, Squall agreed right away. He wasn't going to waste Squall's kindness by goofing off.

"Okay. Okay. You're right." Bartz summoned another weapon into his hand: Cloud's Buster Sword. Good lord, that thing was heavy. If it weren't for his mimic skills, Bartz would never hope to even lift it. "Here I come!"

Squall barely had time to move as the Buster Sword came crashing down onto the ground. Hopping backward, he managed to catch a glimpse of Bartz's face.

He had never seen him so fierce before. Forget training, it looked like they were going to fight for real.

**III.**

The Onion Knight was fascinated by Squall, even if he didn't admit it. His clothes, his weapon, well, everything about Squall screamed "different." Naturally, this piqued his curiousity and Onion Knight just wanted to know everything about Squall. But without anyone noticing. Because that would be embarrassing.

So Onion Knight would try to observe Squall whenever he could as inconspiculously as possible. Sometimes this would pose a dilemma to him when he grappled with whether he wanted to indulge in his curiosity or stay by Terra's side. After everything that happened, he was hesitant to leave her alone for even a small amount of time.

An ideal opportunity presented itself when Terra decided to have a chat with Cecil. Onion Knight knew that he could trust Cecil, who was practically the living embodiment of an ideal knight, to keep her safe. So once the conversation got underway, Onion Knight slipped away without either of them noticing he was gone.

"I'm sure I saw him go this way..." he muttered to himself. Did Squall really like to distance himself from the group that much? What an unsociable guy! But Zidane and Bartz often swore up and down that, no, Squall was really a pretty nice person. Onion Knight had a little bit of difficulty in believing that.

But he was just interested in learning about Squall, not being friends with him, and Onion Knight finally spotted him sitting on the ground and cleaning his gunblade with a rag. Perfect. Onion Knight hid himself behind a tree and watched intently.

No, this wouldn't do. It was too far away to really see anything. Maybe if he got a little closer, he could get a clear view of the gunblade. He had always wanted to see it up close. Well, Squall seemed to have his attention completely focused on cleaning, so maybe he could-

"Come out."

Onion Knight let out an undignified squeak and fell backwards flat on his bottom in surprise.

"You're not very good at hiding."

Caught, Onion Knight stepped out from his hiding place. How...how did Squall know he was there?

"You're noisy," Squall said, as if reading his mind. Looking up from the gunblade he continued, "You look like you want to say something. What is it?"

Onion Knight hesitated at first. Would Squall get mad at him? Well, he got this far, so there was no harm in asking, right? Anyone Bartz and Zidane liked couldn't be that bad.

"So, uh...about the...gunblade. Can I see it?"

Squall gave him a look. "Is that all? You've been spying on me for days and that's it?"

"N-no," Onion Knight stuttered, completely floored that Squall knew he was watching all those other times as well. "I uh...also want to learn about some things. Like, where you come from and what it's like in your world. I mean, if you remember anything."

Squall handed the Revolver to him, and Onion Knight marveled at it. It was...pretty cool even if it looked completely foreign to him. He examined the barrel and ran his fingers over the engraving on it, careful to avoid that razor sharp edge.

"Don't break it."

"O-of course not!"

**X.**

"So, it's a gun and a sword, right?"

Undeterred by the lack of response, Tidus got right in Squall's path and walked backwards with both arms behind his head. Even though Squall was clearly trying to pretend that he wasn't there, he kept talking.

"I mean, I don't know all that much about guns. We don't have many of them where I come from. Forbidden by religion and all that. Some people refused to even look at them, much less own them. But I don't think anyone ever came up with the idea of combining a gun and a sword. It sounds kind of strange and cool at the same time. So, how do you shoot it? Do you aim with the blade of the sword?"

Squall's patience was quickly wearing thin. Firion and Cecil had warned him beforehand that Tidus was nosy, but he never imagined that it was to this extent. After a certain point, Squall wondered whether Tidus actually wanted to know about the gunblade or if he just wanted to hear himself talk. Or perhaps he was just trying to goad Squall into talking. It wouldn't be the first time that people would try to pester him into conversation.

"How far can it shoot? Can you, say, hit that rock over there?"

Finally, Squall had enough. "It doesn't work like that," he growled. "And I don't feel like explaining it."

Tidus stopped for a second, pondering what Squall just said. "So...you're not going to tell me?"

It looked like nothing but a direct approach was going to work. "Go away, Tidus."

A few hours later, Tidus lost all interest in interrogating Squall about the gunblade and was bouncing a Blitzball around all by himself. Bartz talking about learning how to play had reminded him that he needed to keep his skills sharp. After all, right after they kicked the stuffing about of Chaos, he was going home. He was an Ace, after all.

First bouncing the ball off his foot, then his knee, then his head, Tidus complained to no one in particular that there just weren't any good bodies of water around for him to practice in, so out of water practice would have to do. He cursed himself for not thinking of it earlier. They passed a really nice looking lake a while ago.

His thoughts filled with nothing but blitzballs, he didn't notice the manikins slowly creeping up behind him, eyes flashing upon recognizing prey. One of them broke from the group, quietly approaching and ready to strike Tidus' unguarded back.

Tidus bounced the ball up high, preparing to shoot for an imaginary goal. However, just as he leapt up and twisted his body to give the falling ball a kick, he heard a piercing scream behind him. Concentration broken, Tidus fell ungracefully to the ground, the blitzball landing square on his stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of one Squall Leonhart with a manikin impaled on the gunblade. With a grunt, he pulled the weapon's trigger and the shot's explosion knocked the unforunate manikin clean off the blade.

Squall turned and snarled at the remaining manikins, "Want to be next?" Apparently understanding what he was saying, they all retreated quickly.

Still on the ground, Tidus lifted a hand, index finger pointing upward, and was about to say something when Squall interrupted.

"That's how it works." And Squall turned around and walked away.

Tidus stared at Squall's back for a few moments, mind still processing what just happened. Once it finished, he blinked.

"Ohhhhhh..."

**II.**

Firion regarded the gunblade carefully. While it was something he had never seen before, it didn't mean he couldn't try to figure it out. As someone who specialized in the mastery of many weapons, he naturally wanted to know all about it.

"First the kid, now you?" Squall sighed, but he gave up the Revolver without any resistance. It seemed like everyone wanted to get their hands on it.

Studying the weapon carefully, Firion realized that it was something that had to be difficult to use. One had to be able to use both the blade and the explosive rounds effectively. Otherwise, it was an inferior sword or inferior firearm. (Not that Firion knew that much about firearms, but for some reason, he seemed to know a bit about them. Maybe he met someone that used them once? In a previous cycle, perhaps?) He had seen Squall use it before, and the young man wielded it effortlessly and to amazing effect. How many years were put into learning how to use it?

"It's an interesting weapon," he said, giving it back. "But it looks difficult to use. Is it common where you come from?"

"No," Squall answered. "Hardly anyone uses it." People preferred other weapons such as whips, nunchaku, or even becoming pure pugilists.

"So, why do you use it?"

Squall couldn't remember why he chose it. That part of his memory had yet to come back to him. But there was a part of him that made him suspect that he really didn't have a reason. Not a good one, at any rate.

"Because I wanted to," he answered. It was the kind of stubborn answer a child would give, and he was certain that Firion would laugh at him for it.

Firion did laugh, but it was a friendly laugh, not a mocking one.

"That's good," he said. "You should be able to do something if you want to. Freedom is a wonderful thing to have."

Maybe Squall was just imagining things, but did Firion sound a little wistful at that?

**IV.**

To be honest, Cecil expected Squall to be the last person to suggest taking the time to talk before they had to part ways. And actually, it sounded like a good idea. He promised himself to speak with each of the Cosmos warriors before the end of the battle. He would start with Squall himself, but...what could he possibly talk to Squall about?

"Squall, may I ask you a question?"

Squall shrugged. "Sure."

"Do...do you have knights where you come from? That is, if you remember."

There was a long pause before Squall answered, and Cecil figured that he must be trying to remember. He didn't know how much of Squall's memories had returned to him - Cecil's own memory was still hazy. But he did want to hear some things about Squall's world. It must be a very different place from his own homeworld!

At last, Squall spoke. "Knight...that's a very loaded word where I come from." He droned on, staring off into the distance. "The very concept of a knight is outdated. And yet...at the same time, it's extremely romaticized."

Cecil found that very interesting. Knights were outdated? He couldn't imagine a world without knights. However, he did have to wonder about the second part of what Squall said, and he waited quietly hoping that Squall would continue. He didn't say anything in fear of scaring Squall off from talking anymore. It was so rare to hear the sullen warrior speak of himself.

"Where I come from, people think about knights a little differently. When you say 'knight,' they imagine a gallant hero, that much is the same, but one that fights to protect his lady."

Squall turned his attention back to Cecil. "It's stupid," he said, and started to walk off, having answered the question.

Cecil was lost in thought for a moment. Something about the way Squall spoke struck him as strange. And then it came to him.

"Is that what you really think, Squall?" he asked Squall's retreating form.

Squall paused for a few seconds, but did not turn around or answer.

**I.**

"Squall. May I ask for your opinion?"

Joining the Warrior of Light on top of a tall hill, Squall Leonhart surveyed the landscape. There were two clear paths the band of traveling warriors could take: one, a steep path that went down a gorge, the other a path that cut through a forest. The party seemed to be evenly divided on which to take. But ultimately, the decision was up to the Warrior of Light to decide which way to go. However, this didn't mean he didn't seek the advice of others, and Squall was the one he trusted most on matters like these. The young warrior was experienced in these things, and only recently did Squall remember that all that knowledge came from years of rigorous mercenary training.

Squall shifted his attention from the two paths to the floating island in the distance. That was their destination. They still had quite a ways to go, and not much time to do it.

After a moment's deliberation, Squall replied, "The forest would probably be safer. It would be difficult for enemies to sneak up on us, and it has more shelter. The gorge is wide open, making us more vulnerable."

The Warrior of Light started to say something, but Squall cut him off. "But, the forest wraps around, and would probably add a lot of extra time to our journey. Time we don't have. The gorge is a more direct route, and we should take that one. If I were you, when we set up camp, I'd organize a watch with at least two people on lookout duty at all times. Just because we haven't seen any manikins around, it doesn't mean they're not there."

Deliberating what he was told, the Warrior of Light nodded. It was sound advice. He had been leaning towards the gorge because it seemed like a shorter route to him, but he hadn't realized the advantages of the other paths. Were it not for the situation they were in, he would have changed his mind after listening to what Squall had to say and taken the forest instead.

"Thank you, Squall," he said. "Then we will take the gorge path. Time is of the essence. I appreciate your help." And to think, not too long ago, he had thought Squall to be disagreeable, and possibly a traitor. Thinking back on it, he was glad that Squall had defeated him that time. It was so strange that one so young had things to teach him. Strange, but not at all unwelcome.

All of his allies had things to teach him.

**VII.**

Cloud and Squall hardly interacted, and as such, merely had neutral opinions of each other. Each regarded the other as a curiosity. Someone they wouldn't _mind_talking to, but neither wanted to initiate a conversation of any kind.

In an empty world, there was little to do for entertainment among the Cosmos warriors other than talk and gossip about each other.

"You know," Tidus said, one hand under his chin, "I think they _want_to be friends, but they don't know how."

"Squall's not good at making friends," Zidane nodded. "You kind of have to make him your friend first. But it's worth it if you ask me. He looks grumpy, but he's a big softy on the inside."

"Cloud is pretty withdrawn himself," Cecil added. "I think it would do both of them good if they could have a conversation together."

"But neither are really the type to do that," Onion Knight interjected.

"Oh well," Tidus shrugged. "Guess it's not to be."

The Warrior of Light, who had been listening in on the conversation, wordlessly stepped into the middle of the warriors' camp. "Cloud. Squall. Will you come here for a moment?"

All attention was focused directly on the Warrior of Light as the two of them got up to hear what he wanted.

"I want the two of you to have a duel."

Everyone was completely surprised by such a request.

"It is said that two people can learn and understand much about each other when they face off in battle," the Warrior continued. "In these trying times, our group needs solidarity, and I believe the two of you could learn much from each other if you were to fight." Turning to Squall, he added, "Indeed, I learned much about you just from clashing with you once."

A moment of silence passed.

"...sounds good," Squall said.

"I'm for it," Cloud nodded.

The warriors all gathered in a group, eager to watch the match. Tidus and Bartz started a bet over the winner and Firion was particularly interested, having fought Cloud once before and curious to see how Squall would fare. The two combatants were given plenty of open space to fight.

"Are you ready?" Squall asked.

"Let's mosey," Cloud replied.

At Cecil's signal, the warriors lunged at each other, Squall making a sharp turn to the side to avoid being crushed by Cloud's attack. Anticipating a counterattack, Cloud deftly blocked a slice from Squall's Revolver. They stared each other down for what felt like forever before Squall retreated, not willing to face the Buster Sword in a pure strength contest.

"I wouldn't want to be in the middle of that," Firion commented as fire and ice spells collided. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Few words were exchanged between them that battle, but Cloud and Squall understood each other perfectly.

**VI.**

Squall turned away from the circle of warriors gathered around the fire. He was on the first watch of the night, along with Cloud. The two of them were watching opposite sides, and things were thankfully quiet. He almost wished that they would be attacked, because it would prove that there was _something _and that the land wasn't as empty and desolate as it was. But only almost.

Laughter from the campfire drew his attention again and in the corner of his eye, he noticed Zidane flicking his tail in his direction. Were they talking about him? Squall was curious to know what they were saying, but he knew he couldn't abandon his post.

...that, and he'd feel extremely stupid going over there.

So, determinedly, pointedly, he ignored everything going on by the fire and kept up his vigilant watch down his end of the gorge. All was quiet, except for the sounds of the Cosmos warriors talking amongst themselves. Things grew quieter still, as one by one, the warriors turned in for the night. With nobody to tend to it, the fire died out and only the moon and stars provided light. Squall's shift ended once the moon reached the highest point in the sky, and he could wake Cecil so they could trade places. When he checked its position, he noticed he only had around an hour left to go.

A glance over in Cloud's direction showed the other sentry seated on a rock, slumped over the Buster Sword. Had Cloud fallen asleep? Squall checked his end of the gorge one more time before walking across the camp, careful to avoid waking any slumbering warriors, towards Cloud and gently nudged him awake. The soldier thanked him with a grunt and Squall made his way back to his own spot. However, he stopped when he noticed Terra shivering in her sleep. Without the fire's warmth, things had gotten colder. Squall hesitated slightly and checked his surroundings. Cloud was facing the other way, and everyone else was fast asleep. Satisfied that no one was watching, he removed his jacket and laid it on Terra like a blanket. He resolved to wake up in the early morning and reclaim it before anyone noticed.

No sooner had he gotten back to his spot did he hear a faint, "Squall?" His body froze up as Terra took a seat beside him. She was wearing his jacket, which was clearly too big for her.

"Squall?" she repeated. "Thank you. For this." Squall didn't respond. Smiling, she continued, "We were talking about you earlier. Everyone told stories about you and how much they like you." While he still didn't say anything, Squall looked at her with surprise. Everyone thought that? Terra took Squall's silence as permission to continue. "You know, you're kind of like a mother to us."

_That _broke Squall's quiet streak. "...'mother!?'"

"It sounds silly, doesn't it?" Terra chuckled. "There's really something motherly about you. But I guess it would be silly to call you a mother, wouldn't it? Either way, I think you'd make a great father someday."

For some reason, the word "father" sent chills down Squall's spine and turned his blood cold.

"...mother is fine," he finally managed to say.


	2. Nine Smiles

**IV.**

The first thing Cloud knew was it was cold. And despite that fact, he almost didn't want to wake up. Something, he didn't know what, drained him of his willpower. Told him that it would be better if he just drifted back to sleep and never woke up again. He almost listened to it, but a part of him refused. That he mustn't listen to whatever that was. And that part of him was what he obeyed.

Cloud opened his eyes, and what he saw was snow. Snow blanketing the land, snow covered mountains, and snowflakes drifting from grey skies down to the earth. A winter wonderland so beautiful that he didn't want to disturb it.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake!"

Slowly, Cloud turned and saw the face of a man leaning over him, dressed in ornate medieval looking armor and with flowing white hair that seemed to match the snowy landscape they were in.

"I was so concerned," the man said, helping Cloud first sit up, then to his feet. "'Tis fortunate I happened upon you. I was afraid you were dead."

"Where am I?" Cloud asked. His voice was hoarse and his throat was dry. The armored man passed him a beaker containing water, and he sipped a tiny amount from it.

"They call this area the Elven Snowfields," the man answered. "But other than - surely you need more than that. Drink more, you need it. What was I saying? Ah, well, I cannot tell you much more than that." Not wanting to be rude, Cloud drank more water and the man pointed at the ground next to him. "Is that yours?"

Cloud looked down. Even though he could remember little more than his own name, he did remember what the man was pointing at was, indeed, his. The Buster Sword. Cloud nodded and bent down to pick it up. The man watched him in awe as he effortlessly lifted the gigantic weapon. He handed the now empty beaker back to the man.

"Thanks." And he started to walk away, but his steps were uneasy and the snow only hindered him more. When Cloud inevitably stumbled, the man caught him and steadied him before he fell.

"Do you have companions you need to reunite with?" When Cloud shook his head, the man continued, "Then why don't you come with me? My friends and I have taken shelter in an old building not too far from here."

Shaking his head again, Cloud replied, "...I'd only be a burden to you."

"Nonsense." The man removed his cape and wrapped it around Cloud's shoulders. "I'm not taking no for an answer; I refuse to leave you alone in this cold. Now, come with me." With little choice but to comply, Cloud agreed to go with the man. "My name is Cecil Harvey. You are?"

"...Cloud Strife."

**II.**

He had told himself that he would leave Cecil and his two friends as soon as he was fit enough to travel. Although he was weak at first, Cloud knew that all he needed was some food, warmth, and rest to recover quickly. His plan was to stay only for as long as necessary and leave right away to avoid making friends and getting attached.

_That plan,_ Cloud mused as he trailed a bit behind Cecil and his friends, _failed miserably._

Cecil had brought him back to where he and his friends were staying and his two friends, Firion and Tidus, welcomed Cloud warmly and seemed to have no trouble with having a stranger in their group. Cecil would later explain that it was how the three of them met, complete strangers who only met recently and banded together, but at the time, Cloud was surprised and a little confused that they were so accepting. They eagerly shared their food with him and invited him to sit with them at the fire. He learned that they were staying in one place for a few days - Firion had sustained a serious, but not life threatening injury and needed time to heal before they could travel again.

Cloud had tried being quiet and pretending that he preferred to be by himself, but the three of them were having none of that. Cecil and Firion regularly dragged him into conversation, telling him about themselves and the misadventures they had. Occasionally, they would ask Cloud some things, but he had few answers for them and instead did his best to give them decent advice for their journey. Tidus was less interested in serious conversation, but appreciated the fact that Cloud was a good listener. One time, he had performed a trick with that weird ball of his and Cloud made the fatal mistake of complementing his skill. Tidus would now often try to get his attention to show off more in an attempt to hear more praise. Cloud would indulge him every time, as the way Tidus' face would just light up was irresistible.

As he predicted, Cloud was fit and ready to travel after only one day's rest. But he couldn't bring himself to leave them, and would constantly come up with excuses to stay another day. Things like, "It's too late to go now since I was out all day looking for firewood," or "there's a blizzard, which would make travel more or less impossible." The day Cloud couldn't come up with an excuse, he reluctantly geared himself up to force himself to leave. Just before he reached the required amount of willpower to do so, Firion's voice interrupted him.

"Cloud, we're ready to leave," he said, and Cloud's heart sank. They were leaving now? What was he supposed to do? "Do you mind carrying the medicine bag? I was going to ask Tidus to do it, but I can't find him. He's probably already outside."

"...you want me to go with you guys?" Cloud asked, blinking.

"...yes?" Firion replied, equally confused. "You're our friend and a part of our group, aren't you?"

Cloud picked up the bag and he and Firion walked outside where Cecil and Tidus were waiting. And ever since then, Cloud had stuck around with them and was off to fulfill Cosmos' wishes with them.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, Cloud?" Firion answered.

"You called me sensible...are you sure about that?"

It was a strange question to Firion. "Of course. Does that bother you?"

"It's just...I'm not sure if I am," Cloud said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know exactly who I am or what's going on in this world. How can someone be sensible when he doesn't know anything?"

Firion smiled, placing a hand on Cloud's shoulder. "You're sensible because you have doubts. You don't go rushing into things like the rest of us. You want to be sure that all of us are making the right decisions. I wasn't lying when I said that we were fortunate to have you around. Think of all the trouble we'd be in without you."

Cloud tried, but found it hard to imagine. After all, they were doing just fine without him, right?

**VI.**

Cloud liked Terra. Not in _that_ way, but he found her very relatable. She understood some of the things he was going through, and even if she didn't, it was hard to not like such a kind, gentle girl. She didn't deserve any of the pain and suffering she had gone through. In Cloud's opinion, she was handling it extremely well. Most other people would have buckled under the stress. He knew he would have. In fact, she seemed more upset over Onion Knight's disappearance more than anything else.

"He'll be okay," Cloud told her as they walked, but he suspected he didn't sound very convincing. Did she even hear him? He was never good at this kind of thing.

However, even if he was the best person in the world at cheering people up, Terra would have still worried. It wasn't just the fact that Onion Knight had gone missing. It was also because she felt responsible for his disappearance. She was the one Kefka was after, not him. If anyone should disappear, it should be her.

"You feel guilty."

Terra looked up at him. "Huh?"

"When something happens to someone you care about. You can't help but think, 'it should have been me,' or 'I should have done something to prevent it in the first place.'"

"Cloud...are you speaking from experience?" she asked.

All he could do is shrug his shoulders. His memories were starting to return to him, but only in small trickles. "Dunno. Maybe. Wouldn't be surprised if I was."

His reply and the sight of big, strong Cloud shrugging so haphazardly like that, well, to Terra, he just looked silly and she couldn't help but giggle a bit, but quickly stopped herself. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."

"I don't mind," he answered, and they continued on in silence for a while, keeping an eye out for the missing Onion Knight. Sadly, their efforts were to no avail.

Terra wanted to keep going, but her feet ached from all the walking, and despite her immense talent in the magical arts, she could barely scrape together even the most basic of spells due to all the casting she had done just fighting off enemies. She noticed Cloud watching her across the campfire's flames and she met his gaze.

"You look like you want to say something."

Caught, Cloud fumbled a bit with his words. "I-It's nothing important."

"I still want to hear it."

"It's just..." Cloud paused, trying to find the right words. "Well, the kid. He did what he did because he wanted to protect you. He made that choice. None of this is your fault."

Tilting her head, Terra rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Cloud...are you speaking from experience?"

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. Cloud shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe. Wouldn't be surprised if I was."

This time, Terra burst out laughing, and once she calmed down, moved to sit next to him. Cloud shifted awkwardly and then said, "...you should smile more."

"Hmm?"

"You have a nice smile," he elaborated, "When we find the kid, make sure you have your best smile on. It's what he'll want to see."

Pondering what he just said, Terra decided it was good advice. She wasn't sure how she would react if..._when_ they found Onion Knight. But it made sense to her that smiles would be better than tears. A thought crossed her mind and without warning, she reached up with both hands to tug at the corners of Cloud's mouth.

"I will, but only if you smile too. I bet you have a great smile."

"...sure." It was a promise that Cloud wasn't sure if he could keep, but he was certainly going to try.

**III.**

Onion Knight wasn't sure what he thought about Cloud. On the one hand, it was nice to have another person around to watch their backs and he was definitely grateful that Cloud had protected Terra when he couldn't. On the other, he couldn't help but compare himself to Cloud. What if Terra decided she'd rather have Cloud protecting her than him? After all, Cloud was big (compared to Onion Knight), strong, and handsome. What girl wouldn't want someone like that protecting them?

Yeah, he was jealous, and he knew it. And logically, he knew that it was a completely unfound jealousy because Cloud was a rival only in the sense of being in the general vicinity. The soldier was not trying to usurp his position or anything. Onion Knight felt bad, but couldn't help it. Cloud was just so..._awesome_ compared to him.

Realizing he was staring, Onion Knight blinked and tried looking away as Cloud poked at the campfire with a stick. It crackled and embers popped as the flames grew a little bit larger. Satisfied, Cloud tossed the stick onto the fire, watching as it quickly caught flame.

_I bet you never felt this way._

"You think so?" Cloud asked.

...crap. Had he said that out loud?

"Want to hear a story?"

"About what?" Onion Knight asked.

"About me."

"Uh...sure."

Cloud closed his eyes, and after a few seconds, Onion Knight began to wonder if Cloud was trying to remember or if Cloud wasn't going to tell him anything after all. But thankfully, Cloud started to tell his story.

"When I was a kid..."

...very slowly.

"...when I was a kid, there was this girl I really liked. She was strong, pretty, popular, and smart."

A girl? Onion Knight wondered who she was and what she looked like.

"But I was really shy. I couldn't go talk to her. She had lots of friends, and all of them were cooler and more interesting than me. Why would she want to hang out with me when she could be with them?"

Onion Knight blinked when he heard that. Part of him couldn't believe it. He always pictured as Cloud as the type of guy that girls would have always swooned over. But when he thought about it again...it kind of made sense. Cloud was a bit of a loner, wasn't he?

Cloud paused to take a drink of water, and Onion Knight frowned when he seemed to be taking his sweet time. C'mon, he wanted to hear the rest! After what seemed like ages, Cloud lowered his canteen of water and wiped his mouth with his hand.

"Even so, even if she'd never notice me, I wanted to make sure that nothing bad would ever happen to her. So one day, when I was older, I finally asked her to meet with me."

Again, Cloud paused, this time looking up at the night sky. It was still hazy to him, but the stars above reminded him of that night. The sky was just as clear now as it was back then. Only when Onion Knight growled in impatience did he continue.

"I told her I was leaving town. I was going to join a military group and get stronger. And I promised her I'd always be there to save her when she was in trouble. It was unrealistic, I know."

Not wanting to endure another round of long pauses, Onion Knight prompted him. "And then what?"

Cloud shrugged. "I don't remember."

"...what?"

"I don't remember," Cloud repeated. "That part of my memory hasn't come back yet."

Onion Knight crossed his arms and pouted. "Then why did you tell me all this if you can't even remember how it ends?"

"I just wanted you to know," Cloud said. "Even if it's not complete, I thought it would make you feel better to hear it."

"Well, it didn't," Onion Knight huffed, then added. "...but tell me the rest when you do remember, okay?"

Cloud nodded, and picked up another stick to poke at the fire.

**V.**

Cloud shifted underneath the piercing gaze of brown eyes. Bartz circled him, letting out a very contemplative "hmm," sound as he did. He was clearly sizing Cloud up, but for what reason, the soldier didn't know. When he had finished, Bartz closed his eyes and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, letting out more "hmms." Without warning, he snapped his fingers and pointed at Cloud.

"You," he said, "are a chocobo person."

Cloud's first, instinctual reaction was annoyance, but then he realized that Bartz had said "are a chocobo person" and not "have chocobo hair."

"Am I right, or am I right?" Bartz asked. "Tell me I'm right. I bet you have a chocobo of your own."

He didn't know how Bartz could tell just by looking at him, but he was right. Cloud nodded.

"I knew it!" Bartz smiled. "Hey Cloud, what are chocobos like where you come from? Tell me about yours!"

_He's like a kid,_ Cloud thought. Rumors of Bartz's affection for the birds were not exaggerated after all, it seemed. "Most chocobos are wild creatures, often found roaming with monsters. If you want one, you need to go find one and tame it. Or you can buy one. Some people are breeders that raise them and sell them."

"And you?" Bartz's eyes were shining.

"I have my own flock."

"_Really!?_" At that moment, Bartz had nothing but pure admiration for Cloud. A whole flock! Amazing!

"It's only a small one," Cloud said.

"You have a favorite one, right?"

Cloud thought for a second. "Probably the one I use for racing."

Chocobo racing! If Bartz could have been granted one wish right then and there, it would be to visit Cloud's world.

Not noticing Bartz's excitement, Cloud continued on, "I raised her from an egg. She comes from a family of strong racers. I guess you could call her a champion racer."

Privately, Bartz figured his Boco could take Cloud's bird on. "We should race some time!" he suggested, and he was thrilled that Cloud agreed to it. "My Boco versus your...uh...what's your chocobo's name?"

"Name?" Cloud blinked. "...she doesn't have one."

Was Cloud serious!? This was some kind of joke, right? What kind of chocobo lover doesn't name his chocobos?

"...am I supposed to give her one?"

_Cloud, apparently,_ Bartz thought. "Of course you are! What do you call her if she doesn't have a name?"

"Just 'you.' Or 'my chocobo' if I'm talking about her."

No. No no no. This won't do. This won't do at all. Cloud's chocobo needed a name. Of that, Bartz was certain. "All right then. When I meet her, _I'll_give her a name."

Cloud shrugged. "Sure. Looking forward to it."

**I.**

Cloud didn't like being the center of attention. He never sought the spotlight. He liked being on the edges of the group, not in the middle. So, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why everybody liked to go out of their way to talk to him. At first, he figured it was the Buster Sword, but even after his weapon stopped being a novelty among them, they would still gravitate towards him.

"Should you not be mingling with the others?" Looking up, he saw the Warrior of Light walking towards him. The leader of the warriors of harmony. Now that Cloud thought about it, this was the first time that the Warrior of Light was coming to speak to him personally. "Is something on your mind, Cloud?"

"No," Cloud answered, turning his attention to the other eight warriors. He could see Tidus and Firion knocking the Blitzball around and Onion Knight showing off his fancy footwork to Terra, no doubt in some attempt to try to impress her. Even Squall was there, and Cloud watched him grab onto Zidane's tail just as the thief was no doubt about to do something foolhardy. A heated argument between them started as Bartz and Cecil watched, laughing at them.

"Lying doesn't suit you, Cloud," the Warrior of Light said. "You do a very poor job of it. Are you afraid of trying to join them?"

When Cloud winced at that, it was the only answer the warrior needed. He shook his head.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Cloud."

Cloud winced again, like he was being scolded by a parent after being caught with one hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm surprised you think so lowly of our companions."

"I don't-" Cloud started, but the Warrior of Light cut his protest short.

"Do you really think they'd be so cold hearted to reject you? Bartz thinks very highly of you, did you know that?" He didn't wait for Cloud to reply and continued. "As does Terra, and Onion Knight, though he is too proud to show it. And what of Cecil, Firion, and Tidus? They welcomed you into their group, do you really think they would turn you away now?"

Feeling very small, all Cloud could do was manage a quiet "no."

The Warrior of Light seemed to think that Cloud had enough of a stern talking to. "Then go. Enjoy yourself while we have this small bit of peace." Cloud got up and started to walk towards the others. Tidus noticed him first, and he kicked the Blitzball towards Cloud, who stopped it and returned it with a kick of his own.

"What about you?" he asked the warrior.

"Me?"

"I didn't see you with the others earlier. Shouldn't you come too?"

"I..." the Warrior of Light trailed off, not able to come up with a proper reason to why he hadn't mingled with the others either. "...you're right." And he joined Cloud as everyone started to gather close to the campfire to tell fantastic and whimsical stories of their homes.

**X.**

Tidus was upbeat, cheerful, and at times, surprisingly insightful. He might have not looked like it, but Tidus was remarkably talented in reading people, and his method of taking direct approaches to things sometimes gave him clarity that other people lacked.

"So basically," Tidus said once he finished listening to Zidane talk, "you're saying you like girls who can kick your ass and boss you around."

Zidane tilted his head to one side. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess." That _would_ explain why being rejected sometimes made him like a girl more. And with his memory slowly returning to him, he certainly remembered falling for Dagger's toughness. And he would be lying if he said he didn't develop a crush on Freya when he was younger. "What can I say? I like strong, assertive women."

"You must be so whipped, man."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

The two of them broke out into laughter and once they stopped, Zidane got up to see what Onion Knight was up to. Now alone, Tidus looked around to find someone else to kill some time with. His gaze fell on Cloud and he made a direct beeline for him.

"Hey Cloud," he said, taking a seat behind the quiet man.

"Not going to show me anything today?" Cloud asked.

"I lent my ball to Bartz," Tidus sighed dramatically. In the distance, the two of them could see Bartz try to bounce the Blitzball of his head, yell out in pain, and question why it had bumps on it. "So sorry, nothing for you today."

"That's a shame," Cloud replied.

"Uh huh," Tidus agreed. "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I dodged two hundred lightning bolts in a row?"

"Yes." Cloud still really didn't understand many things about that tale. For one, why in Cosmos' name did Tidus decide to do something like that? And how did he get two hundred lightning bolts to strike at him? Didn't he say there were lightning rods all over that Thunder Land (Was it called that? Might have been something else. Electric Plains? Now that didn't sound right either...) place to prevent that kind of thing?

"Oh..." Tidus sounded a little crestfallen that he wouldn't be able to relate that tale again. "What about when I fought a dragon on top of an airship?"

"That too."

Dang! Uh...well, there had to be something Cloud hadn't heard before. "I got it! I'll tell you about the time I decided I had to save Yuna-"

"-from being forced to marry someone she didn't love," Cloud finished. Yep, he had heard that one too. "I think you've told me everything."

No matter how hard he tried, Tidus couldn't come up with anything he knew he hadn't already told Cloud. "Guess I'm out of stories for now, huh? At least I'll have some great things to tell everyone when I get back home."

"You think you'll remember?" Cloud asked. "That we'll all remember?"

"Absolutely," Tidus answered with a definitive nod. "I couldn't forget you guys even if I tried. And hey, even if I don't remember, it doesn't change the fact that we went through so much together. Even if my mind forgets, the memories will still be right here." He pounded the left side of his chest with his fist. "Even if I forget what happened...even if I can't recall your names or your faces, I'll never forget how it felt to fight, laugh, and cry alongside all of you."

Cloud was silent for a few moments, then spoke, "You're so optimistic and bright." He shook his head. "Wish I was more like you."

With an amused snort, Tidus gave him a friendly shove. Cloud barely budged from his spot. "Nah, you don't wanna be like me. It's not all it's cracked up to be. Besides," He lifted his hand and caught his Blitzball as it went sailing overhead. It looked like Bartz got fed up for the time being, but Tidus knew he'd be back to try again. Someone like him wouldn't be able to resist the allure of Blitz for long. "Besides," he repeated. "The great thing about stories is that each one is special and unique in its own way. They've all got something to tell. Wouldn't it suck if they were all the same?"

Cloud supposed so.

**IX.**

"Open it! Open it!"

Zidane was hovering over Cloud's shoulder, tail wagging like a dog's. Treasure always got him excited. It was less about the value of whatever might be inside and more about the thrill of finding it and the mystery of not knowing what was hidden away. Sometimes they found weapons or armor. Sometimes they found gil. And sometimes they found the strangest things like pebbles and monster teeth. Zidane figured they must have been valuable enough to somebody for them to be carefully put in a treasure chest, so even if it seemed like a worthless item, it was still treasure to him. After all, he remembered hiding similar things when he was a child.

After an agonizing wait of three seconds, Cloud undid the latch on the treasure chest and lifted the lid, and Zidane tried to peer around him in order to see the contents inside. Cloud frowned and shut the lid before he could.

"Aw, come on," Zidane whined. "What is it?"

"Why don't you look for yourself?" Cloud grumbled, then stood up to leave. And Zidane did, curiously crouching down and opening the lid. Really? That was it? He thought it might have been empty or contained something horrible like a dead moogle. Scooping up the object inside with his arms, he hustled to catch up with Cloud.

"It's just a dress," he said. "And not the first one, either. Cecil found one in a chest a couple days ago." When Cloud responded only with a grunt, he dared to ask, "What, you have bad memories associated with dresses or something?"

"...I had to wear one once."

"That all?" Zidane poked at Cloud with his tail. Hmm, maybe Terra would like this dress? The other one they had was too small for her. Would giving this to her win some favor? A kiss maybe? "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

Cloud stared at him in response. And that stare told Zidane that yes, it really was that bad. Probably worse than he was imagining. Zidane would take his word for it, then.

"If it makes you feel better, I've done it too," he said. "Loads of times." He didn't even have to look at Cloud to know that he was giving him the oddest stare. "I told you I'm an actor, right? Well, the thing about my group is, we only had one girl in the group. And a lot of plays have more than one female parts. Ruby couldn't play all of them, especially when two of them had to be on stage at the same time. So guess who that job went to?" He smiled at the memory. "'Zidane,' they said. 'You're the prettiest,' they said. 'Put on the dress.'" Zidane paused for a moment to fold the garment properly. Didn't want it dragging in the dirt now. "I got used to it after a while. Pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself. And hey, it was useful. Pretending to be a damsel in distress turned out to be a good trick to make a quick gil."

Cloud was polite enough to not point out that being a con artist wasn't quite the same as earning money.

"But I wish we found something more," Zidane continued. "I mean, everyone's in really low spirits for now. Can't blame them. Everything's gone to hell right now. I was hoping we could find something awesome to cheer them up." To be able to show them a really neat sword or a shiny ring or something would make them smile, if only for a short amount of time. Zidane felt like he was letting his friends down and that feeling only amplified when they entered the quiet and miserable campsite. He was out with Cloud all day and all they had to show for it was a dress.

...a dress, huh? Well, you should work with what you have, right?

"You. Come with me," he said, grabbing Cloud's wrist and tugging him along. "Terra! Hey Terra! I need some help here! You know where that dress from the other day is?"

Sometimes, Cloud wasn't sure what the people around him were up to. This time however? He knew exactly what Zidane was scheming. "I'm not doing this."

"It'll be fun," Zidane insisted, going through the party's stash of equipment and accessories, pulling out a circlet and two earrings. "More importantly, I just want everyone to laugh and smile, even if only for a little bit."

"...just this once then. But next time, get someone else to do it."

Zidane laughed as Terra pulled out the second dress, then stared at Cloud for a few seconds. "...this is gonna be hard. A challenge even. Don't worry, me and Terra'll get you all dolled up in no time."

An hour later, Terra stepped into the middle of the camp. "Um...can I have your attention everybody?" When all eyes were on her, she felt awkward and almost wanted to back out. But no, she wouldn't. She, Zidane, and Cloud had worked hard on this. "I would like to announce a...uh...a performance is being held right now by our very own Cloud Strife and Zidane Tribal. You can come out now, Cloud...er, 'Miss Cloudette.'" Deciding that was good enough, she stepped aside as Cloud timidly stepped out from behind a tree, wearing one of the dresses and various pieces of jewelry. His trademark spiked hair looked different, slicked down when Zidane and Terra dumped a bucket full of water on his head. He was supposed to say something or other, but with everyone staring at him, he forgot his line.

There was nothing but dead silence for what felt like forever. It was eventually broken by Tidus being unable to hold in his laughter any longer. While they had tried their best, in the end, Cloud still looked like a muscular man wearing a dress. And how was that not hilarious? Bartz quickly joined in on the laughter and Cecil stifled a chuckle while Onion Knight was struggling to keep his composure. Firion shook his head, clearly amused and even the Warrior of Light cracked a smile. Squall Leonhart, however, just looked disturbed.

Next it was Zidane's turn, and everyone just had to stop and stare when he came out. Was that...really Zidane? No, that had to be some kind of identical twin sister, right? He had gone for a princess look, and presented himself as dainty and regal. He changed his hairstyle a bit, parting his hair on the side and letting it fall over his eye. The circlet was perched on top of his head, and he had taken care to pick out accessories that would go with it.

"Good evening, everybody," he said, in a convincing girl's voice. "It's so nice to see you all."

Tidus started laughing again and Cecil clapped at such a good costume and performance. Bartz decided to play along and asked Zidane to dance with him with an exaggerated bow. (He would later discover his gil pouch missing.) Squall looked even more disturbed than before. Firion picked a flower from the ground and presented it to Cloud.

"For..." It was pretty obvious that he was trying not to laugh. "...for you, Miss...Cloudette."

Cloud stared at it for a bit and wanted to tell Firion to go away, but he remembered why he (reluctantly) agreed to do this in the first place. "Uh...thanks." He made no effort to try to sound more feminine.

"Please excuse me for a second." Firion turned around and Cloud could see him shaking with laughter.

The mood in the camp had brightened considerably, and later on, Cloud decided that, okay maybe Zidane was right and it was worth it to see everyone smile.

But he still wasn't going to do that ever again.

**VIII.**

In the shade of the gorge, Cloud rested with Squall Leonhart beside him. The two of them were exhausted from the duel the Warrior of Light asked them to have. It ended with no real winner, as the two of them fought stubbornly until they were forced to stop, lest they collapse from fatigue. Squall was a phenomenal fighter. Cloud wasn't even half as good as he was when he was his age. But he supposed he wasn't being fair to himself. Squall said he had been learning to fight since he was a child.

Squall rarely talked about himself, and when he did, it was small, choice pieces. But it was enough to give Cloud a picture of what his life was like. It wasn't unlike what he could remember: in a military, serving under a commander. When you were told to move, you moved. When you were told to stop, you stopped. When you were told to kill, you killed. It wasn't like what Cloud had imagined when he first left Nibelheim. Maybe that was why he never made the cut. Squall probably could.

They had never actually had a real conversation before, but Cloud felt compelled to ask, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Squall was nearly asleep, but Cloud's question woke him right up.

"Do what you do. How do you know you're doing the right thing?"

Squall gave him a Look. He always felt weird giving advice out, especially on philosophical crap like this. Were it anyone else, he might have said, 'I don't know. Go ask Cecil.' But, he was feeling generous, and he always kind of did want to talk to Cloud.

"You can't ever be sure," he said. "And you can't just stay in one place like an idiot, paralyzed with fear. You'll never find out if you do. Pick a path that you like and go down it. If you don't like where it's going, then pick another one."

He wasn't one for holding back his words, was he? Still, Cloud appreciated the honesty. "Guess I gotta find one I like then."

"It's not that hard," Squall snorted, leaning against the gorge and closing his eyes. "Don't overcomplicate it by worrying about stupid things."

Maybe Cloud did worry too much about things that couldn't be changed or things that didn't need to be worried about in the first place. Maybe Squall was right. Maybe he had to sort himself out.

Maybe he should take a nap first.


	3. Nine Weapons

**X.**

Tidus would never forget that meeting. He had just woken up and almost immediately, heard the sounds of a fight in progress. Stumbling to his feet, Tidus ran through the trees, emerging to an empty field and was greeted by an amazing sight: a lone, single man carrying an entire arsenal surrounded by what looked like living statues. He was about to call to the man and offer his help, but all of the strange statues attacked. It then became clear that Tidus' assistance wasn't needed at all.

The man started by grabbing the lance on his back and whirling it around, repelling the attackers. He then threw the weapon, spearing multiple enemies at once and Tidus' eyes widened in amazement as they shattered into dust. The fight wasn't to end there, however. As soon as the lance left his hand, the man hurled a knife on a rope at another enemy, hitting it in the chest. Pulling on the rope, he pulled the statue towards him and used it as a shield to protect himself from attack. Tossing the unfortunate statue aside, he counter attacked, for this was the last one, quickly sending fire magic after it. The statue dodged it, but the burst of fire merely changed its course, homing in on it. As the statue continued to try to evade the magic, the man had pulled out his bow and notched an arrow, taking careful aim before releasing the shaft. His aim was perfect and the arrow struck the statue in the head, killing it instantly.

Tidus let his jaw drop. "Woah!"

And the next thing he knew, there was an arrow pointed straight at him. But once the man realized he was not like the statue creatures that attacked him, he lowered his weapon and merely stared right back at him. Tidus knew he had to say something. Make a good first impression. The bow may be lowered, but there was nothing stopping that guy from lifting it right back up and firing an arrow right between his eyes.

"...Isn't it heavy carrying all those weapons around?"

The man didn't answer at first, but then suddenly burst out laughing.

"No. You get used to it after a while."

"Oh, um..." Tidus looked to the side and scratched the back of his head. "I'm Tidus."

"I'm Firion."

And from that moment on, the two of them were best friends. They shared everything from supplies to what memories they could grasp. Tidus was the first person Firion told about his dream. It would later prove to be a mistake.

"Hey! Rosebud!"

"Will you ever stop calling me that?" Firion asked, shaking his head.

"Nope!" Tidus grinned. "...buuuuut, I'll tell ya what. The day you fulfill that dream of yours is the day I stop calling you Rosebud."

"That's ridiculous, Tidus."

"Then you'll just be Rosebud forever." Tidus shrugged, then ducked a punch aimed at his head. "You want me to stop? Then you better get to work on that dream. Think of it as an incentive."

Quietly, Firion muttered, "You're just like your father."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

**VII.**

He lost.

Firion had lost to Cloud. He had seen the man fight before, but to be on the receiving end of it was a completely different story. And perhaps what was most embarrassing to Firion was the fact that in desperation, he had thrown all his weapons at Cloud with the intent to kill, but thankfully stopped himself at the last second.

"Weren't you scared?" Firion asked later on as the two of them rested. It may have been a match between friends, but they had given each other a fair number of cuts, bruises, and scrapes in the process. Cloud's Buster Sword was jammed into the ground beside him, and Firion was examining the weapon carefully. He didn't even attempt to lift it.

"Nope." In return, Firion had let Cloud see his axe, and he couldn't help but be amused by the fact that Cloud seemed to be struggling with it. It seemed that Cloud was so used to the Buster Sword that despite being lighter than it, the axe's different shape and weight distribution threw him off. Firion supposed that if he gave Cloud one of his other weapons, the result would be the same.

Firion shook his head and examined the Buster Sword's edge. It actually was not very sharp at all, but he wasn't surprised. It may have carried the name of sword, but its real strength was its crushing ability, not its cutting one.

"You're a good person, even if you got carried away. You wouldn't hurt someone senselessly," Cloud continued, turning the axe around so he could view it from different angles. In anyone else's hands, it would have been considered heavy, but Cloud found it to be quite light. Deciding that he should probably stop messing with it before he hurt himself, Cloud placed it on the grass. "Besides, it told me something important."

"What's that?" Firion asked, retrieving his weapon. In turn, Cloud placed one hand on the Buster Sword's hilt and effortlessly pulled it out of the ground. He shook it a few times to get rid of any dirt.

"It told me how much your dream means to you," Cloud answered. "You lost to me, but you'll keep fighting for it no matter what." And suddenly, Cloud's mood turned somber as he sighed and looked to the ground, as if he was ashamed of himself. "I don't have anything like that."

Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, Firion tried to reassure him. "One day you will, Cloud."

But he could tell that Cloud doubted him.

**IV.**

To say Firion was worried about Cecil was an understatement. He had warned Cecil against seeking out his brother and the knight seemed to listen until a certain best friend said something. He wasn't angry with Tidus, however, and Firion understood that it was what Cecil had to do. But that didn't stop him from worrying.

But Cecil was back, safe and sound, and with a crystal in his hand to boot. When they ran into each other again, all the knight did was smile and wave, as if he hadn't just come back from venturing into danger by himself. Still, Firion was overjoyed to see his friend again. They had just finished catching up with each other on what had happened when they were apart when Firion noticed that Cecil kept glancing at his lance.

"Sorry, it reminds me of someone," Cecil explained. Memories always came back one at a time, but now that he had his crystal, they were returning much faster and it was quite overwhelming. "Do you mind if I see it for a moment?" The weapon in his hands suddenly made those returning memories much clearer. "I have a friend that uses lances. I remember that he would be overtaken by powerful magic and it would force him to betray and leave us until its effects wore off. It happened several times."

"Then why did you allow him to stay with you?" Firion asked. Surely, if something like that were to keep happening, it put Cecil and his friends at risk.

Cecil stared right back at Firion, lance gripped tightly in his hands. The answer was prompt and full of conviction. "Because he was our friend, and we trusted him." He paused and his expression softened. "It's difficult to describe, Firion. It's something you would have to experience for yourself."

Something stirred in Firion's memory, but when he tried to seize it, it slipped away like grains of sand between his fingers.

**V.**

It was a well known fact that if one wanted to kick back, relax, and have fun, then one would be wise to seek out Bartz Klauser.

When Firion found him, though, Bartz was in a terrible mood.

"Tidus thinks I can't play Blitzball," Bartz huffed, crossing his arms like a spurned child. "And he won't let me use his ball thing."

"Do you even know how to play Blitzball?"

"Not a clue," Bartz replied with a straight face. "Hey, wanna help me get back at him?" And luckily for him, Firion was not above playing jokes on his best friend.

Tidus was rarely away from his Blitzball, and the two of them found an ideal opportunity. They were near a beach and Tidus just could not resist a chance to go swimming. And so, the ball was left on the sand, defenseless and a sitting duck for other warriors with nefarious intentions in mind.

When Tidus surfaced from a long dive, he was horrified to see Bartz with _his_ Blitzball, bouncing it around like he didn't have a care in the world. With a snarl of rage, Tidus swam back to shore and took off after Bartz, who had fled into some nearby trees.

Hidden in a bush, Firion had thrown one of his rope knives into the base of a tree. He saw Bartz zoom by with Tidus was not far behind him. At the last possible second, he pulled the rope taut, tripping the poor blond. Tidus looked up to see both Bartz and Firion laughing at him and was immediately back on his feet.

"JEEEEEEEERKS!" he roared. "I'm going to pummel you guys!"

Stopping promptly, both of them took off and realized that they had forgotten one very important fact: Tidus could run faster than both of them.

**VI.**

Firion could use many weapons. A flail was not one of them.

It was early one morning when Firion happened upon a treasure chest by chance. Inside was a flail on a chain, and as it was one of the few things he didn't know how to wield properly, took it back to see if anyone else was able to use it.

And, apparently, it seemed like nobody else could. The Warrior of Light couldn't. Cecil couldn't. Cloud shook his head. Bartz explained that he technically _could_...if he knew someone he could study and mimic. Which, again, appeared to be no one.

Not wanting to leave it behind, Firion considered learning himself. He did, after all, have an amazing talent for learning how to use weapons. It could only be to his advantage, as having more options was always a good thing. He sat down in a quiet spot near the edge of camp to study it. Ideally, it would have been nice to learn from someone, but not everything could be ideal. He could figure it out himself. He became so engrossed in it, he didn't hear the sound of Terra's footsteps.

"Firion?" she asked. Having only just woken up, she saw him go off by himself and decided to see if he wanted company. "I was...oh, is that a flail?" Before he could answer her she added, "May I see it?"

Figuring she was just curious, Firion saw no harm in letting her hold it. He passed it to her, warning her that it was heavy. The last thing he wanted was for it to fall onto her foot. Terra never seemed to be one for weapons to him. She hardly needed them, not when she had such amazing magic under her control. She only carried that sword of hers, using her magic to adjust the length of the blade and used it sparringly.

Much to his surprise, she seemed completely comfortable with the flail! The way she held it definitely showed familiarity. She was remembering how to use it.

"Would you like some practice?" he offered. He, admittedly, just wanted to know for sure if Terra could actually use such a heavy and brutish looking thing.

"Really? That's so kind of you!" she smiled. She waited for him to stand ready.

_Maybe,_ Firion thought, _Maybe she uses magic to move it._

He turned out to be wrong as she swung the weapon at him with terrifying speed and force without a drop of magic involved. He was only just able to block it when she swung again, this time landing a solid hit on his chin, sending him flying.

"Oh my goodness!" Terra gasped, dropping the flail and running over to her fallen friend. Kneeling down, she shook him frantically. "Firion! Firion, are you all right!?"

He was unable to answer her, having been knocked out cold.

**VIII.**

After Terra, Squall was one of the best wielders of magic the forces of Harmony had, able to rapidly cast spells and combine them in ways that Firion had never seen or even knew was possible. Even though they came from different worlds, Firion knew that in order to achieve that level of ability, it must have required countless hours of study and practice.

Feeling a bit guilty about asking to see Squall's Gunblade earlier (a request that seemed to annoy his comrade), Firion offered to show him his weapons. The offer was accepted, but more out of politeness than anything else. And such, Firion's staff was passed to the teenager, who somehow managed to study it with interest while looking bored out of his mind at the exact same time.

"We don't have these where I come from," Squall said. "Or...I guess we have them, but they're for decoration only." And it was true. Weapons, where he came from, were meant to be used to inflict physical damage. There was just a wide variety of better choices.

"Staves and rods enhance magical energies and help a mage focus his powers," Firion said. For him, his primary motivation for learning how to use a staff was because he wanted to improve his magic. "You could probably make good use of one."

Squall shook his head. "I'll pass." But now that Firion mentioned it, he did feel like if he were to try using magic, it would be stronger and more effective than usual.

"But why?" Firion pressed. "You're very good with magic." If he sounded like he was jealous, well, maybe he was.

Squall stared right at him with something that conveyed to him anger and frustration. Not at him, that much Firion could tell, but at something else. And perhaps he was reading too much into things, but he saw a hint of sadness as well.

"What would you give for power?" Squall asked. "How about your memories? And what if you had no choice but to give them because you need that power?"

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Later on, Firion saw Squall quietly sitting near Bartz and Zidane, looking more sullen than usual, idly creating magical flames in his hand and then extinguishing them. Despite their repeated attempts and pleas, he refused to tell his companions what was wrong.

Firion didn't understand the surely complex relationship between Squall and magic, but it did make him wonder something about himself: how far would he go and what would he sacrifice for the strength to protect others and make his dream come true?

**IX.**

"Hold it steady...that's it. You're getting much better."

Firion reached over to correct Zidane's form. As the resident weapons specialist, Firion found himself giving the other warriors lessons in how to use different weapons. In this war torn world, it was a solid investment of time and effort and it helped give them something to focus on that wasn't their current grim situation.

The bow was perhaps a little too big for someone as short as Zidane, but the thief seemed to be managing it just fine. He had an arrow loaded and notched, aimed at a tree a short distance away.

"Go ahead, fire."

Zidane hesitated for a moment, then released the arrow. It flew foward and struck the right side of the tree's trunk.

"Not bad," Firion said. "You'll be a sniper in no time."

The faint sound of movement caught Firion's attention. Suddenly, he shouted for Zidane to duck and threw himself onto the thief just in time to shield him from an arrow that was aimed directly at his friend's chest. Getting up, he pulled the shaft from his shoulder and examined it. It was made from a yellow crystal he was all too familiar with. He knew exactly what his opponent was.

Firion launched himself in the direction the arrow had come from and sure enough, there was a manikin of himself waiting for him. Most manikins preferred a more direct, aggressive approach to attacking and the fact that this one tried to pick someone off from afar suggested to Firion that this would be no routine, easy battle. Still, not only did the manikin try to assassinate his friend, it was dangerous to just leave it where it could threaten someone else.

Wasting no time, Firion thrust his lance at it, only to have it dodge to the side and swung its sword at him, a move that was easily blocked. The advantage to fighting yourself was that you knew all of your techniques.

The manikin quickly switched to its own lance, striking Firion with the hilt. Unfortunately, knowing all of your own techniques didn't always mean you could avoid or defend against them. The manikin followed up with another strike, forcing him to the ground. It raised the lance, ready to bring it down for the killing blow.

But the manikin suddenly convulsed, letting the crystal lance fall harmlessly to the ground. It jerked again, and Firion scrambled to get out of the way before it fell onto him. Looking at the fallen monster, Firion saw two arrows embedded in its back. Turning his gaze elsewhere, he spotted Zidane perched in a tree branch, Firion's bow in one hand and waving at him in the other.

"Thanks, Zidane," Firion called.

"We're even now," Zidane replied. "You save my life, I save yours." Holding up the bow he added, "But, if you feel the need to reward me, I wouldn't mind keeping this."

"No. Now give it back."

"Aww."

**I.**

Firion swung his sword, only for his blow to be expertly parried. He tried again, only to be blocked once again. He retreated; his swordplay was good, but not as good as his opponent's. Said opponent, the Warrior of Light, was not going to let him get a clean getaway and gave chase, quickly closing the distance. However, Firion was ready for him and deftly blocked his swipe.

It was an old fashioned duel. Swords only, no other weapons or magic allowed. While it was meant to be an exercise to keep skills sharp, it also provided entertainment for the other Cosmos warriors, whom had gathered to watch. Nothing but the sounds of clashing blades filled the air, for everyone felt that for some reason, it would be disrespectful to talk.

Even though he was fully aware that the Warrior of Light had the complete advantage, Firion was not about to give in quietly. He launched a ferocious offensive assault, slashing multiple times with great speed. The Warrior of Light held up his own blade to block them, but with one last, powerful attack, the sword was knocked from his hands, landing on the ground. Firion pointed his sword at the Warrior of Light, who graciously admitted his defeat.

"Did you let me win?" Firion quietly asked while the audience broke out into applause. The Warrior of Light was a skilled swordsman, and Firion was genuinely surprised that he had won their spar. The Warrior didn't seem like the type of person who would just let someone win, but he just wanted to be sure.

"I did not," The Warrior answered as he retrieved his sword and slid it between the handles of his shield. Turning his head back towards Firion he continued, "You truly did overwhelm me. As I'm sure I have no need to remind you, but battle is not just about who is the most skilled."

He was right in that Firion did not need to be told that battles were not just about who was the strongest or most experienced fighter. But he still didn't understand how he was able to beat the Warrior of Light. Sensing this, the Warrior offered him a rare, tiny smile. "You are very talented in battle, Firion. You possess abilities that no one else has. But your greatest strength has always been your willpower."

Firion didn't think of it as that way. The final attack that won the duel was, at the time, just a last ditch effort to try to pull out a win. Was that willpower? He wasn't sure. It seemed more like a final gambit to him. One that paid off, but was still just one last thing he expected to do before losing.

"You put your entire being into everything you do," The Warrior of Light said. "I underestimated that. I lost to your drive and your passion. It serves you well, and not just in battle. It's also won you many friends and the respect of our comrades." Having said his piece, the Warrior of Light decided to leave, but not before giving Firion one piece of advice. "Never lose that, Firion."

**III.**

Onion Knight always found Firion's dream to be silly. A world where wild roses could grow. He understood that it was not meant to be taken literally, but then what _did_ it mean then? Nobody seemed to know, not even Firion himself. Onion Knight never voiced this opinion - everyone else seemed to be enamored by it despite its ambiguous nature and who was he to stomp on that?

Another thing Onion Knight thought was silly was how much Firion seemed to fuss and fawn over that flower of his. When not in the company of the other warriors, all Firion seemed to do was contemplate the rose. And finally, one day, Onion Knight just had to ask just what was so important about it.

"It's not just about my dream," Firion had said. "I have memories connected to it as well."

"What kind of memories?"

"I'm not sure," Firion admitted. "but I do know that I need to keep the wild rose safe."

"That's silly. It's just a flower."

Firion raised an eyebrow. "Is it really?" Carefully, he tucked the wild rose behind his shield. "There's nothing silly about wanting to protect something. There's something you want to protect too, isn't there?"

Onion Knight fidgeted under Firion's gaze and tried to escape it by looking instead to Firion's shield, where the wild rose was now safely hidden away from danger. He knew exactly what Firion was referring to. He tried to come up with an answer on why it was _totally_ different. Terra was a person for one! A gentle, kind, absolutely beautiful- ARGH no he can't say that!

Fortunately for him, Firion didn't expect an answer from him. "You are right, it is just a flower. But it's one that's important. It's important to me, to everyone here, and..." he trailed off. It felt like he was missing someone. Unable to figure out exactly who he was missing, he continued on. "...and even though I didn't intend for it to be, it's become the symbol of our hopes, dreams, and our bonds. And if that's not worth protecting, then what is?"

Onion Knight couldn't come up with a better answer.


End file.
